


down there

by ymorton



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crack, Dick Pics, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:05:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymorton/pseuds/ymorton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just crack. niall needs help with some intimate photography</p>
            </blockquote>





	down there

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr, oct. 2014 
> 
> come say hiya [here](http://www.ihavea1dbloghelp.tumblr.com) !

Harry’s flipping through a comic book when Niall corners him alone on the bus, which is good, because Harry hates comic books and will thus be easily distracted.

“Hey,” Niall says, and Harry immediately throws the book aside. It lands in a heap on the carpet, and they both stare at it.

“What’s up?” Harry says brightly, looking at him.

“Nothing much,” Niall says, nodding, wiping his sweaty hands off on the thighs of his jeans. “Well, like. I kind of have something weird to ask you.”

Harry’s eyes gleam, and he sits up straight.

“How weird?”

“Pretty weird. Like weirder than that time you taught me how to 69 with a pillow.”

“Did Barbara appreciate that? I never asked,” Harry says thoughtfully.

“She appreciated it about five times in one night, thank you very much,” Niall says, waggling his eyebrows, and Harry gives him a fist-bump.

“But anyway.” Niall sits down on the sofa next to Harry. “So, basically. I’ve been chatting with this bird, like, from Mullingar-”

“Oooooh, an Irish bird,” Harry says, patting his knee. “Good for you, Nialler, way to protect the bloodline. Sorry, go on.”

“And, like, I want to, uh. Send her a picture. Of my. You know. Bits.”

Harry nods, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

“Because she’s sent me hers, and that was really nice, like, really nice, and she asked for me to, like, return the favor, and, well. But the thing is. Never done it before.”

“You’ve never… what,” Harry says slowly.

“Taken, you know, a photo. Of down there.”

Harry stares at him, and Niall feels his face start to go red.

“And you have,” he says. “Because I saw it that one time when you sent it to Daisy, remember?”

“You saw that?”

“Mate, you showed it to me. You said, look, do you think my dick looks okay in this photo, and I said yeah it looks great bro. That conversation happened. I don’t know why it happened, but it did.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow thoughtfully.

“Was I drunk? Why don’t I remember this?”

“I dunno!” Niall says, throwing his hands up. “Probably! The point is, you take a good dick pic, mate.”

Harry’s eyebrows smooth out and he grins. “Thanks, Nialler!”

Niall pats his knee. “So, can you like, give me a few tips. Because I’ve tried and everything just looks…. like, red and weird. And like an alien.”

Harry nods.

“Maybe I just have alien bits,” Niall says sadly. “Maybe people just haven’t been saying it coz they don’t want to hurt my feelings, but really they’re like, disgusted, by my dick, and afterwards they feel like they’ve been probed.”

“Probed?” Harry asks, in a hushed voice.

“Like an alien.”

“Aliens - probe? What do you mean? Probe? Like, probe, like with a… probe?”

“Stop saying probe.”

Harry pouts. “Probe,” he mutters.

“Anyway, can you help or not?”

“Of course I can,” Harry says, reassuringly. “So, like. Now?”

Niall shrugs, looks around at the bus. “I mean, sure.”

“The lighting’s shit in here,” Harry says, standing up, tugging at the curtain. “Natural light is really the best-”

“I’m not gonna go stick my dick in a fucking patch of sunshine so you can get the shot, Harry.”

Harry ignores him, and says, “Alright, let’s go into the bedroom. That lamp I bought in Chicago has a really warm glow, that’ll be a lot more flattering than the fluorescents.”

Niall stares at him. “Haz, I think you have a career in this.”

“Don’t say that til you see the photos,” Harry says very seriously.

“I was - joking, but, okay,” Niall mutters, and follows Harry into the bedroom.

Harry adjusts the lights, dims the lamp, carefully pulls down the blinds of the tiny windows in the bunks, and then sits Niall down on the bed.

“So,” he says. “First step is you’ve got to be hard.”

Niall wrinkles his nose. “Really? That seems, like. Aggressive.”

“No one wants a photo of a soft penis, Niall. I don’t even want to see a photo of my own soft penis.”

“And you love your own penis.”

“Exactly. So let’s, you know. Get into it. Here, I’ll demonstrate.”

Niall really doesn’t need demonstration, but he sort of likes seeing Harry’s dick. It’s pretty nice to look at.

“Alright,” he says, trying to sound confused. “So, like, you just, take it out?”

Harry pats him on the shoulder. “Just watch me.”

“Okay,” Niall says, too quickly.

Harry unzips his jeans and shoves them down, then tugs his pants down til they’re around his thighs. His dick is pretty big even when it’s soft, which is one of those injustices in life that Niall just has to come to terms with. Harry Styles - pretty face, unfair ability to pull anyone he likes, and a big dick.

“Do you think she’d fancy you still having your jeans on a bit?” Harry says pensively. “Or all the way naked? Like, the first way can be hot, because it’s like you just couldn’t wait, you know, and you were hard in your pants thinking of her- that’s what you should say, by the way, but we can go over that later. But then naked has its own appeal.”

Niall drags his eyes away from Harry’s dick. Harry’s jerking himself off slowly, starting to flush and get thick. How does he do that? Like, he’s not even lookin at porn or doing anything sexy. He’s just talking to Niall.

“Go on,” Harry says, letting out a sigh, his dick nearly fully hard. “Take it out. And take your shirt off.”

Niall’s cheeks go hot, but he did know what he was in for when he asked, so he strips off his vest and unzips his jeans.

“Oh, that’s a nice-looking dick,” Harry says, peering between Niall’s legs, once he’s got his jeans and pants pushed below his arse, down to his knees. “That’s not alien-ish. Niall, who knew you had such a nice dick.”

“Your mum did,” Niall says, because he’s basically obligated to when Harry sets himself up so easily.

Harry takes his hand off his prick to give Niall the finger.

“Please don’t get yourself hard thinking about my mum,” he says. “Please.”

Niall snorts, and wraps his hand around himself. If he were alone he’d take his time, tickle his fingers down over his thighs and belly until he can’t resist touching himself anymore, but, like. He’s not alone, and that’s kinda poncey, so. He takes himself in hand, like a man.

Harry nods, encouragingly, watching him. “That’s good. Get yourself good and hard. You want to look, like, eager.”

“Is eager sexy?”

“Of course eager is sexy, Niall,” Harry says. “People just want to be wanted.”

Niall hums, and thinks about being wanted, to see if it really is sexy. He thinks about Angela all the way back in Mullingar, with her sweet face and nice round tits and red hair, the way they fucked in her flat when Niall went back home for a weekend, her bouncing in his lap and his mouth on her nipple-

She wanted him. She was wet for him, really properly wet, so slick when she sat down on him it felt like his dick was drowning. But, like, in a hot way.

He huffs out a breath, stares down at the ground as he wanks off, his dick feeling hot and sensitive in his hand.

“Good,” Harry says softly, and Niall jumps, looks up at him.

“Did you forget I was here?” Harry asks, grinning. He’s still standing up, legs spread, dick hard.

“No,” Niall scoffs. “You just. surprised me.”

“What’s her name?” Harry asks, voice a little rough. “The girl.”

“None of your business, pervert,” Niall says, watching as Harry thumbs the tip of his dick. There’s slick glistening on his hand. “What do you think about, anyway? To get hard.”

“Anything,” Harry says breathlessly. “Bodies. The times I’ve had sex. The way girls taste. Depends on what I’m in the mood for.”

Niall’s dick is so hard his eyes keep going blurry and then refocusing. He wants to get off.

“So, the photo,” he says, strained.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry says. “Here, you take mine first. Get my phone.”

Niall should question that, probably, but instead he fumbles for Harry’s phone, left discarded in his jeans on the floor, and gets the camera on.

He looks at Harry’s prick through the lens.

“It’s sort of dark,” he says. “Should I turn the flash on?”

“Good god, no,” Harry says with a shudder. “Are you kidding? Don’t put the bloody flash on.”

“Then get in some fucking light, Haz, because right now it’s all shadowy.”

“Shadowy’s better than overexposed,” Harry says, moving a bit to the left, cupping the shaft of his dick in his palm. “Overexposed is very off-putting. It looks weird. And like, medical.”

Niall hums in his throat, clicking the screen with his thumb right over the head of Harry’s dick so the camera focuses. “Stay still.”

Harry takes away his hand, puts it on his chest, looks down at his stiff prick. “I am being still. Take the picture.”

Niall takes a photo, and then another, and holds it up for Harry to see.

“Not bad,” Harry says, raising an eyebrow.

“Eurgh, mate, you just called a photo of your own dick not bad.”

“S’your fault you’re such a skilled photographer,” Harry says, grinning, wrapping his hand around himself again and giving himself a quick tug.

“My turn, then,” Niall says, handing over the phone.

Harry lets go of his dick and wipes his hand on his thigh before he takes it.

“Alright, stand up,” he says.

Niall winces. “If I stand up it’ll hang all weird, like, off to the side.”

“Which way?” Harry says, interested. “I love dicks that go off to the side. It’s endearing. Nick’s goes left.”

“Well now I’m definitely not showing you, cos you’ll tell someone else first chance you get,” Niall says, covering his dick protectively.

Harry rolls his eyes, but relents, and lifts his camera.

“Okay, lean back a bit,” he says. “Let it rest up against your stomach.”

Niall jerks himself a few times, roughly, and then leans back on his hands, watches as Harry bends down, squinting at Niall’s prick with the phone held out in front of him. Christ, if anyone walked in right now-

“That’s good,” Harry says. “Your balls look really good.”

“Shut the fuck up, Harry.”

Harry frowns, and snaps a few photos, all in a row.

He clicks on photo roll, scans through them, and Niall sits up, wanking himself off idly so he doesn’t go soft. In case they need to, like, do a reshoot or whatever.

“These look good,” Harry says. “I’d totally get off to these.”

Niall groans. “Why do you fucking say these things, Harry?”

“It’s a compliment!” Harry whines. “I’ll text you these so you can send em to her.”

“And who’re you gonna send yours to?” Niall asks, half-joking, but Harry immediately looks very thoughtful.

“Hmm,” he says. “Nick, I guess. Nick’s always up for a good dick pic.”

He glances at his watch. “Actually, Nick’s on radio right now.”

“Oh, so you probably shouldn’t-”

“Oh, no, I definitely should,” Harry says, grinning. “That’s just a bonus. One time I made him choke on air. It was incredible.”

He swipes around on his phone, brow furrowed, and then suddenly Nick’s voice comes out.

“Radio One app,” Harry says, sitting down next to Niall so he can concentrate. “And… I’ll just write a little message, mmm, do you miss me, and - send!”

He grins, and holds the phone up so they can both hear.

“HAIM’ll be on next week, which I am massively excited about,” Nick says, his voice tinny and small and yet still all warm and nice. He does have a nice voice. Niall’s not close with him really, but he gets the appeal. “They’re always a good time, aren’t they, Finchy?”

“Oh, always,” Nick’s producer says. “You all get on like a house on fire and start chatting for way too long.”

“I think it’s a nice authentic conversation, Matt,” Nick says. “Which frankly, as producer of the Radio One Breakfast Show, you should be trying to cultivate and encour- oh my god.”

“What?” a female voice says, and Harry puts a hand over his mouth, eyes bright.

”- nothing,” Nick says after a second, his voice high and wobbly. “At all. Nothing at all.”

“Put your phone away, Nicholas, you’re on air!” the producer says, and Harry snorts behind his hand.

“Who’s that from then?” says another voice. “Read it out! Read it out! Read it-”

“Shut up, Ian. I haven’t got my phone out,” Nick says, all recovered now, voice smooth and practiced. “And would you look at that, we’re late for the news. Good producing, Matt.”

“Don’t you snipe at me today, Nicholas-”

“Oh hush, Fincham- it’s nine oh four so it’s time for the news with Tina Daheley!”

Harry turns the phone silent with a flick of his thumb, and then flops down onto his back and bursts into laughter.

“Oh my god,” Niall says, chest shaking, face red with secondhand embarrassment. “Oh my god, you’re an actual fuckin’ monster, Hazza.”

“That was so good!” Harry chokes out, and his phone buzzes in his hand. He lifts it up, breaks into fresh laughter, shoves it at Niall.

Nick: _I fucking hate you harold_

Nick: _WAIT WHO TOOK THAT PHOTO ??????????_

Niall snorts, and takes a selfie, with his tongue out, attaches it to a text and sends it off.

Then he flops down next to Harry, and Harry looks over at him, grinning.

“So,” he says. “I’d say that was successful.”

“We’ll see what Angela thinks,” Niall mutters.

“Angela, huh?” Harry says, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up.”

“Aaaaangela. I bet she’s gorgeous, int she. Can I see a photo? Not the dirty photos, obviously, that would be wrong.”

“Shut up forever.”

Harry huffs a laugh, and then rolls his head until it’s against Niall’s shoulder.

“Should I wank or sleep?” he says.

“Why’s it one or the other, mate?”

“Fair point,” Harry says, laughing, and he closes his eyes.

Niall waits until Harry’s breath has gone slow and even, puffing against Niall’s arm, before he maneuvers Harry back into the bed properly, picking his long skinny legs up off the ground and swinging them onto the mattress. Harry mumbles, bats his hands away, but he falls right back asleep once he’s settled.

Niall looks down at him, gives him a pat on his bare belly.

“Night, Haz,” he says quietly, and leaves him alone, wanders back into the main cabin of the bus to find his phone. He’s got dick pics to send.


End file.
